1. Clothes no matter how wonderful they are, do not have powers of locomotion. They will NOT pick themselves up off the floor. Underwear with skid marks is a definite NO-NO. Mate, Softex is there for a reason.
In an effort to simplify things for all my potential dates out there, here’s another list of 10 things; this time a few basic requirements I have of my ideal girl. Just so we can have at least a shadow of a chance at a meaningful and lasting relationship.
Yeah, I think I’ve arrived at that stage in every Zimbabwean’s life where I look around, dig deep inside and ask myself that age-old question: should I stay or should I go?
I know it’s rare, kinda weird and naggingly un-patriotic, but I thought it was about time I put down a list of things that erally get on my tits. It’s not all about hating my native country, I just think anywhere on this planet, the following shit would piss just about anyone off.
You have to wonder. Not long ago, Guv of the Reserve Bank of Zimbo, Dr Giden Gn (he’s removed 3 zeroes from his name) introduced the new and ‘convenient’ ZWD100k bearer cheque. Which, of course, is bright green. Now, having wasted all that money and effort, that thing becomes useless in 19 days.
So I’ve borne witness to many clangers and howlers in my recent past, but as blonde moments go, this one takes some beating. So during the Spain vs Ukraine game, my white blonde female roommate asks me in all earnestness : ‘Why isn’t Beckham playing for Spain?’
As an ongoing community service, I’ll be writing an occassional “10 Things” list to help other bachelors out there with commonplace situations. You may find yourself in these situations one day, so let me try and help with a few insights and tips, that at face value may appear common-sense, but trust me, we can ignore them. And make bad decisions.
The bloody FIFA World Cup. Flags, floosies, footballs and, of course, flops. Yep, it’s finally over, a whole month of joy and pain and hangovers and missed expectations and beers and hugs and late nights and hangovers again. And bloody Portugal are STILL surrender monkeys who couldn’t beat a cheating housewife, let alone the French national team.
“I’ve got The Pink Panther” on DVD, are you coming to watch it with me?”
“What?” scoffed Mel. “And watch Beyonce shaking her ass? I don’t think so.”
“Okay, I’ll watch it by myself then…”
And thus began my first recent evening without the joy of football and the comfort of beer.
Isn’t life wonderful? The World Cup, in all it’s multi-coloured madness and two-footed trickery, is in full swing. And I’m glad to say I haven’t missed a game yet, thanks in part to the TV I have in my office!
I’ve tried. I’ve done the whole legitimate thing, I’ve tried nine-to-fiving, watching DVDs, being faithful, learning to cook, that whole decent thing. And it ain’t my style. So…I’m getting my dreadlocks back.
Holy shit, Batman, it’s time to improvise. Why, you ask? I’ll give you why, dammit. Because the price of beer at the Scud & Nanny has hit $270,000-00, that’s why.